


A Penchant for Younger Lovers

by mongoose_bite



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Not Kingsman AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry expects this will last weeks. Harry hopes this will last months.</p>
<p>Drabble originally posted on tumblr, posted here by request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Penchant for Younger Lovers

Harry has always had a penchant for younger lovers, to the point where his friends remark upon it sometimes, but cannot bring themselves to chide him for it for he treats them well. It is not merely their physical appearance that fascinates him, but their perspective. He says he already knows the world as his generation knows it; he’s heard their arguments, their opinions. His lovers show him new things and in turn he pushes beloved books into their hands, stands next to then on freezing evenings as they queue at obscure independent cinemas, shares wine and food and music with them. He shows them what he has learned, tells them what he has seen, discovers his own life and the history of the world as he’s lived through it anew through them.

They leave, and they always leave, after weeks, or months, amicably, with teary smiles or a fond kiss. Some keep in touch and some disappear and others resurface years later for a friendly lunch and Harry prides himself on being well-remembered by them all. He does his best to be kind and generous and lets them go again without bitterness, wishing them well with his whole heart.

Eggsy doesn’t need to be charmed, or coaxed, or smiled at. He rakes his gaze up and down Harry’s body with eyes like hot coals. He rides him like it’s his last night on earth. He peels Harry’s suits off him and the body beneath seems to render him almost incoherent with lust. Eggsy wrings him out, drowns him.

Harry expects this will last weeks.

Eggsy tears through his library, his record collection, his wine cellar. They go out to see a film and end up dancing. They decide to get Chinese and end up in a cellar listening to poetry so bad they can’t stop laughing about it on the tube home. They dress up for the theater and then stay in and fuck. Eggsy does not accept everything that Harry says, does not like everything Harry likes and they debate, over dinner, on the steps of the Tate Modern, in bed, and Eggsy is graceful and delighted in defeat and unbearably smug in victory.

Harry hopes this will last months.

When they break up it is anything but amicable. Eggsy shouts at him, waving his hands, and Harry doesn’t see what he’s done wrong and that only frustrates Eggsy further and it ends with slammed doors and Eggsy cuffing at his eyes as he practically runs down Harry’s street and Harry still grasping for his next argument, not sure if he’s trying to fix this or tear it down and staring at the closed door and realising it didn’t matter now anyway.

There are so many things in Harry’s house that don’t belong to him and he lives with them for a week before packing up half of them into a cardboard box one rainy Sunday and lives with them half-packed for another week and a half. Then he gives in and sends Eggsy a text, asking him to explain what happened, if he doesn’t mind, and in small words, for he is terribly old and stupid and he doesn’t understand.

Eggsy sends him back a time and place and they stare at each other dramatically for a few moments until Eggsy says he’s freezing his balls off out here and they repair to a nearby cafe. And Eggsy explains, in small words as requested, that he got tired of watching Harry wait for them to end, and if he was so tired of him he should have said something rather than leaving it all on him to break them off. It’s not fair Harry, to make me play the bad guy.

And Harry says he never _wanted_ Eggsy to break it off but expected that he _would_ sooner or later. Where can we go, he asks, you and I are so far apart, when I am old, you will still be young.

And Eggsy wrinkles his face up like he did the first time he tasted gorgonzola and says Harry expected them to break up within a year because he was worried that otherwise they’d last for thirty?

When he puts it like that it sounds a bit silly but otherwise surely it’s selfish. Eggsy scrubs his hands in his hair and says he is only going to ask this once, but what do you _want_ , Harry?

Thirty years, he answers him, does not seem adequate. He’s terrified.

Eggsy’s shoulders drop and he reaches for Harry’s hand and smiles, because that is what I’ve been waiting for, Harry. Was it really so difficult?

Yes it bloody well was.

Then I’m suitably touched. Let’s go home, yeah?


End file.
